


Day 1: Gifts

by emberbent



Series: Zutara Week 2019 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberbent/pseuds/emberbent
Summary: Katara awakens the morning after she and Zuko tracked down Yan Rha. Grateful for his company, she finds a way to show her appreciation.





	Day 1: Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> While I’m taking a short break from [Emberbent,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678024/chapters/49111088) I thought I’d try my hand at Zutara Week. I know it’s several months too late, but I feel like it’ll be a good exercise at the very least. Please note that this is my first-ever canon-character fic, so please don’t come for me lmao.

Daybreak crept over the ledge of the Western Air Temple, rousing Katara from a deep sleep with gentle sun rays. Rolling over on the straw mattress, Katara stared at the ceiling as the previous day’s events came slowly back to her: venturing off with Zuko in search of the Southern Raiders; finding and pinning down the wrong man; letting her rage come to the surface as she bloodbent the hapless soldier to the floor; locating the man who had taken her mother’s life and releasing all of her pent-up grief on him with daggers of frozen rain, all pointing precariously at his throat. She’d managed to stop herself before she’d turned herself into the very monster she so hated, and she was grateful for that. Despite the heaviness of yesterday, this morning, she felt lighter; not better, necessarily, but different. While she could never forgive Yan Rha for what he’d done, having forgiven Zuko had brightened a dark place in her heart.

Katara dreamt of her mother last night, but it wasn’t one of the usual dreams she had - the ones fraught with anguish that caused her to wake up crying. In the dream, she sat in the middle of her grandmother’s tent. Her mother came to sit beside her. Between the two of them, no words were exchanged. Kya only watched her daughter intently, peacefully, wearing the loving smile she always had for her precious youngest child. Katara felt an undeniable peace flood her being, and she understood that her mother was deeply proud of her.

She clung to that feeling for as long as she could before responsibility forced her out of bed. After dressing, she padded out of her small room and came into the common area in the middle of the temple, which served as both a kitchen and a lounge area. With grace, she summoned some water from the barrel marked “potable” and guided it into the cauldron, sparking a fire beneath it with two stones. As the rice porridge boiled, Katara nosed around the group’s store of food and ingredients. There wasn’t much left - they’d have to make another supply trip soon - but there was enough rice to justify making a little extra something with the small pouch of sugar she’d picked up during her last trip to town.

Katara got to work grinding up the rice into a fine flour and making dough out of the flour, some sugar, and a little water. She had no mold to press the dough into, so she shaped it by hand as best she could. Just as she finished placing the little treat in a box for later, she heard footsteps: Zuko had emerged from his room, rubbing at his eyes. Blearily, he meandered toward the cauldron.

“Morning,” Katara greeted him, taking in his wrinkled sleeping clothes and his overgrown hair, matted and sticking up in places.

“Hey,” Zuko grunted, his gilded gaze following her movements. “Do you, uh… want some help?”

“Sure. Can you make tea?”

_Can I make tea?_ Zuko thought maybe there was an opportunity there for a joke, but he didn’t want to risk coming across sarcastic, like he knew he would. Instead, he silently got to work, surprising Katara with his easy, fluid movements, as if he’d done this a thousand times before, despite not being fully awake yet. 

Jasmine steam wafted toward Katara as he handed her a cup, which she took with gratitude. A silence settled over them - comfortable in a way Katara didn’t think was possible between the two of them. 

“Thank you for coming with me yesterday,” she said after a while. “I know it was… a lot. _I_ was a lot.”

“I get it,” Zuko rasped. He felt there was no need to thank him, considering everything that had led to Kya’s death had been the fault of his family. He owed her his solidarity, and so much more. “I know how it feels to know your mother’s never coming back. Not... not that what you went through and what I went through were the same at all. That’s not what I meant.”

Katara watched him as he squirmed and backpedaled, unable to stop the right side of her mouth from curling into a smirk. “I know, Zuko.”

He tried to relax, but even after she’d embraced him yesterday in forgiveness for all he’d put her and Sokka and Aang through, he still felt they were on uneven ground. Zuko finished off his tea and poured himself some more, if only to have something to do to busy his hands. 

“I have something for you,” Katara sounded and reached for the little box. “It’s not much, but… I wanted to let you know I appreciated your company yesterday.”

Zuko gingerly took the box from her. Studied it. Pulled the top off. Inside was a little pastry, vaguely shaped like… a moon gate? He couldn’t tell, even looking at it sideways. “It’s hideous,” he smiled. “I love it.”

“It probably tastes even worse,” she noted. “I usually make them with a different kind of flour.”

He carefully bit off half the cookie and chewed thoughtfully. “Sweet,” he reported, “But not too sweet. And surprising.”

_Kind of like you, I guess._


End file.
